“Don’t say anything until I’m done getting the cream out and putting it back.”
I wasn’t going to say anything. Bob believed that refrigerators were perfect hosts for secret government spy devices. He poured cream in our coffee then replaced the milk, holding the door open for a good sixty seconds before he closed it.
“I heard just now,” he said, “them voices that I was telling you about. I could hear them whispering on the other end of their tap. They’re probably parked in a van somewhere up the holler.”
“Bob, I don’t think that after all of these years they’re gonna….”
“That’s the trouble with most people, Cupcake. They don’t think. Just when you go to letting your guard down, that’s when they come for you. They know that I know things and they’re afraid. Things like Roswell and them lights in the sky over cross the Big Sandy…”